The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning

The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.

Staring out the Waiting Room window she noticed the distinct form of a Crow flying across the background of the blue sky. An enormous Crow circling the divide of the parking lot and the large expanse of river. The decades old offices silhouetted the terrain of evil quite naturally and any beauty of the landscape was quite an accident. Scenes of outdoor luxury are often like that, stand blissfully unaware of the depths of its own dark corners. Her white jeep parked indeed in the darkest corner of the parking lot, beneath the shade of the tree, disguised as a shadow to any who might walk past on the sidewalk of the short incline to the city street.

No one would know she was here, the Judas in slacks and pumps thought quietly to herself. Distracted still by the Crow, a feeling of unease came over her. She assuaged her fears by the thought of the Little Tramp homeless and pitching her tent to the left of the parking lot, where the park began, and she stifled a bit of laughter. One more attempt to ruin her is why she was there. It had been 6,574.5 days since she had facilitated the personal campaign against Caeli. For each of those days she had thought of her daily and the machinations of how to get at her grew. That she had crossed the path to the dark side and entered madness was well known with great strides across her soul. Her own hollowed chamber echoed with the haunts of tomorrow. But there would be no haunts now would there in her future afterlife, destined for the wildlife of the underworld, an altogether different creature awaited her.

The lawyers' offices had a slight air of defiance embedded in the air. Ghosts of many fools walked the hallways and file rooms looking for a second chance. The namesake of evil is often the turning stone of something else. Something intangible. A matter of grace flipped upside down like a glass that covers a fly, with the words of “mercy,” never leaving its mouth, if flies had mouths in which to utter by. So, the ghosts never stampeded, there for a feeling of revenge alongside decades of the ghosts of Solicitors hiding in the corners of their offices waiting for the glatitude of the day, as if they'd ever be lifted.

The earth is a giant playground for those who know how to play right. For those who know how to appreciate the upbringing of the planet. The rules are pretty clear in a no-game culture that yearns to instill rules over and over. Harm no one, is the only rule. In every facet of reasoning, guesswork. attitude, or approach to others, no harm to anything living is the only grace we live by. Anything less than that can be a step toward doom, eventually.

Within that vast playground there are impediments to abrasion where luck meets cathedral. A person can trip and skin their elbow or have their arm ripped off in a different sort of calamity. The world is held in a balance, like a ball on a string. It can sway left to right, or go round in great circles or small ones. The world is a compound with many trials and tribulations that weigh upon it. Never are good and evil kept in balance. The All is inherently good. The actions of the people, the minds at work example good or bad. Bad can give a mighty swing to what could be of all else, a still point. Rocking the casbah in a world of good trying to perpetually overcome the dark might mean that there is no balance, there is pressure.

I have less than a week, days for a miracle to occur. Let there be a miracle dear God in preventing my homelessness. Prayers can lead to miracles, this Caeli had seen with her own eyes, already a living testament to the power of prayer with the many attacks to her soul. She sat in a dream, eyes closed, deep in the wonder of prayer. That's a sort of balance in the big picture of things. A sort of dream, a reconciling, a truth.

The Woman still waiting, went over the play in her mind for the thousandth time. It helped her motivation. This shall be her final stroke then she would have nothing to worry about. She was tired of all the slights over time, and it had to be Cael's fault, had to be. Who else would work against her?

First, she had called Caeli's mother, said she was her agent. Balls did she have? Why yes! They hacked her phone and and got the number, easy. Then she called the demure and beautiful Mother Dove to tell her all about her daughter. The Woman's words had a hypnotizing effect. Once she heard the soft spoken bewilderment of the gentle Dove, like a Crow she attacked the nest and unraveled the 80 year old's carefully nurtured sanctity. It was not long before The Woman had more information in which to manipulate things. “Not to worry Dove, we will take care of everything, Caeli will always have a place here.”

Mother Dove left the conversation feeling angry. Upset at the state of affairs. A smudge on the mountain of hope already clouded in the despair of grief. What was she to do?

It was around that time that the devil opened the door. Smiling wide at the The Woman, with one motion he held out his arm in greeting. “I looked forward to meeting you, Yul highly recommended you.” She rose, her shadow now filling the room behind her, she stepped through the door matching his smile with one of her own. With barely an introduction she stepped into her reptilian nature and explained how of course, she was her to help and in all worlds this would be the best for Caeli. They had a fantastic plan and for a short-time she would stay with her, then the rest she was very vague about. That way they would assume sale of the house Caeli was in, she would get her cut and the lawyer would get his fee, and both Caeli and her mother could go sleep on someone's doorstep for all she cared. They had done it once before and in a world of great imbalance cheers to opportunity that presented itself. Only, if you had been following along for 6,574.5 days would one know such opportunity. The Woman and the lawyer roughed out a plan and she left and went on to her next appointment.

The Crow was circling The Woman's jeep as she left the parking lot. It remained on a post waiting until she left her next appointment. It followed her across the city on her way home. The woman's eyes got larger as she saw it in the rear view mirror. The Crow seemed bigger now. As she got out of her jeep she looked upward and there it was circling her. She stepped carefully toward her front door as it made it's first swoop that took her breath away with the breeze it left. Slightly unbalanced, The Woman wavered a moment and the Crow struck her forehead. A scream met the winds. Within the holler came a flurry of sounds like breaking branches, loud flutters, and an aciarino triangle ringing to its metal wand as the Crow attacked mercilessly. Crows eat reptiles, don't they?

The End

Life is a mix of imagination, perception, fiction and a dash of intuition, but only truth can truly guide. There never need be a balance of dark, there should only be light. There is more to this this tale and more truths to tell in the next Small Tales and Visits to Heaven XIs novel. Start here, Novel:

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Copyrighted Lisa Lachapelle (dit Langlois)